


Lay Low

by Quite Disastress (itrlytiz_quitedisastress)



Category: Lupin III
Genre: Dirty Jokes, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:08:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23525128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itrlytiz_quitedisastress/pseuds/Quite%20Disastress
Summary: Goemon and Jigen have a discussion after the quiet events in Holdup. Things remain quiet...for now.
Relationships: Arsène Lupin III/Mine Fujiko, Ishikawa Goemon XIII/Jigen Daisuke
Comments: 3
Kudos: 39





	Lay Low

**Author's Note:**

> So, this particular activity (writing fanfiction) that I’ve picked up during these strange times in which my work hours have been reduced, I...keep picking away at this mountain. 
> 
> I’ll do a deep dive into my psyche on my own time, but at the end of the day, I can’t thank you enough for saying kind things about this stuff that I do purely for fun. 
> 
> I’ve been approaching the romance elements from mainly Jigen’s POV (and will continue to do so), but I thought some exposition from Goemon might be in good order.

Everyone had a favorite part.

For Lupin, it was the payoff. The result of a plan coming to a successful conclusion.

For Fujiko, it was getting her hands on the object of her desire. To possess that which caught her alluring eye.

For Jigen, it was the 48 hours after the score. When one could (and should) lay low and just relax.

For Goemon, it was the action. It’s what he was trained to do.

They had already ditched the little apartment in favor of a penthouse suite. Four distinct silhouettes. The gentleman thief, all outward confidence and sharp angles with the flashy coat. The femme fatale, sensuous, calculating, and enticing. The marksman, dark and wiry. The samurai, a serene image of lost tradition in a modern world. They were a real motley crew, and with a fake name and stolen credit card, they were set for the night. They didn’t have the luxury of actually staying that long, Pops would be on their tail once he managed to get back on track after all the excitement. But now, it was time to celebrate. The euphoria and high of a job’s success could not be matched with any drug or drink, but they were open to suggestions. Corks and caps of various bottles popped. Glasses clinked. Cigars were lit. Room service received calls for about 3 hours before they were finally given both generous cash tips and a reprieve.

It was a job well done, and not just in terms of success. No twists, no betrayals, nothing complicated. They could have a bit of a break. All 4 of them landed on the luxurious sofa in the front of the room, facing the giant window, the lights of Brussels illuminating the night.

Jigen inhaled deeply, allowing Lupin to light his cigar. He puffed away happily and watched the thief delicately light Fujiko’s cigarette, practically singing a litany of ridiculous sweet nothings and outlandish promises. He rolled his eyes. He turned his head the other direction and was greeted with Goemon sucking down nigori from a green bottle with an enthusiasm that he rarely saw from the samurai. He smiled. “Congratulations, Goemon.”

The samurai, surprised anyone was paying attention to him, swallowed quickly and almost managed to avoid coughing. “Ah, thank you, Jigen! Good work,” he replied, pleased but not quite smiling.

If they had been a bit more...alone, Jigen would have told him how cute he was when just a bit tipsy.

Fujiko had worked her way into Lupin’s lap and began entertaining the group with a number of lewd jokes. This one involved quite a show. “...and the train is overcrowded as it is, so, the girlfriend gets a _brilliant_ idea to sit in her boyfriend’s lap.” To illustrate her point, she shimmied a bit in Lupin's lap, causing him to go just a little more slack-jawed. “Now, they get out of the city, and on to the _bumpiest_ road in rural China,” she explained, “and so, the girlfriend decides to put her plan into action. No one on the train is paying particular attention to them, not really, so she hikes up her skirt and...seats herself a _little_ bit further back in his lap.” Once again, Fujiko demonstrated. “And wouldn’t you know it? As soon as she gets comfortable, the road smoothes out, and the ride is seamless, not a bump anywhere. What’s a girl to do?”

“Girl?” Lupin asks. “What about her poor boy-toy?” His hands were wrapped around Fujiko’s waist, but they were slowly traveling northwards. No surprise there, but it seemed Fujiko was in good enough spirits to allow it.

“So, she leans forward,” and again, the femme fatale leaned about 5 inches forward, offering a bit of a peek down the canyon of cleavage spilling out of her red wine colored gown, “and asks the person across from her where he is going. And she does this over and over again. ‘Oh, sir! Where are you going?’ ‘And you, grandmother, what’s your destination?’ ‘Little sister? You too?’” Each time she spoke, Fujiko’s voice got breathier, and airier, and more high-pitched. She peppered in suggestive breaths and slow, seductive rolls of her neck, sending her hair cascading about her shoulders. Before long, she was shouting, “Yes! Yes! We’re all going there! So good, so good! So good!” Jigen, despite himself, found himself laughing out loud with the others. Goemon, unnoticed, simply turned red in the cheeks and looked at the floor.

Lupin purred and massaged Fujiko’s shoulders. “You sure know how to tell a joke, Fuji-cakes!” Fujiko smirked, tossed a few locks of hair over her shoulder and announced that she was going to get more wine...wine in the bottles they left on ice in the bedroom. Lupin didn’t need to be heavily hinted at twice. They got up off the couch (Lupin with some noted difficulty), and mad their way to the suite’s master bedroom - a happy, laughing couple. For the next few hours, at least. Jigen tried not to be too cynical just now.

Alone with Goemon. Again. He hoped to god that the bedroom walls and doors were...soundproofed was a tall order, but at the very least... _resilient_. Now that there was an entire couch to lounge on, Jigen found he didn’t want to go too far. Goemon raised his green bottle to his lips, and Jigen tapped the bottom a couple of times, tipping the mouth of the bottle forward and sending a small flood of nigori barreling into the samurai’s mouth.

“Jigen!” Goemon half-laughed, half-complained, moving the bottle away. “This is good drink! We must not waste it.”

“Was just trying to get it down your throat quicker,” the gunman confessed.

“Ah, trying to get me drunk,” the samurai teased back. “Perhaps I will be easier to lead to bed then.” Jigen pursed his lips and scratched the back of his neck, feeling guilty.

Not like there was going to be a great time for this conversation. “Hey, Goemon.” Jigen paused. He couldn’t get started again.

“...Jigen?”

“Uh. Sorry. Um, not just for trailing off there, but for, you know, a few days ago.” The gunman leaned forward, smoking calmly.

Goemon wasn’t having it. “You made an attempt to apologize that night. I told you there was no need. You did not force yourself on me.”

Jigen tapped his cigar and licked his lips. “No, not...like that. But. Still. I didn’t...I made a few assumptions when it came to how you felt about the situation. And that’s not fair.” He paused again. “I think...you’re no dunce, Goemon. You probably picked up on this months ago.”

“Years,” the samurai replied, without missing a beat.

“ _Years?_ ” Jigen asked.

“Jigen, you’ve been nothing but professional in our time together. Except for earlier this week. And that one time a few years ago. Two years ago?” he asked himself. “I stand by my statement. Two years is the minimum amount of time to qualify a -”

“Goemon, shut up. What do you mean _years_?”

The samurai turned to meet Jigen’s gaze. “Do you...really not remember? I suppose I can’t blame you. You had lost so much blood...”

Ohhhh. The first night. Jigen felt like the dunce here (once again). “Yeah.” That was the start of all of this. He still didn’t know what to call it. The night that Jigen’s eyes, after years of being laser-focused on targets, wandered away from hits to seek out the samurai’s. The night he occasionally made comparisons between cherry blossoms and Goemon’s demeanor. The night he started goofing around with flowery prose and whimsical poetry. The night he began daydreaming again. “I just...I don’t know. I figured you wouldn’t care. Or want that. I got ahead of myself, and I thought...maybe I was looking too hard and tried to see something that wasn’t there. Wouldn’t be the first time.” Goemon started chuckling. It was a welcome sound, comforting, even though it confused the hell out of Jigen. “What’s so funny?”

The samurai shook his head, tossing his glossy, dark hair back and forth. “Just...recalling the night in question,” he had to stop again to laugh, “it’s hardly worthy of a fairytale romance. But, the life we lead...is hardly a fairytale!” and he laughed again. After he composed himself, Goemon stayed silent to consider his next words. “But you are correct. I did not care, nor did I want such a thing.”

Jigen pulled the brim of his fedora down. Yikes. Embarrassing. “Ah, well. See. That’s why I apologized.”

“Please note the usage of past tense.” Goemon sighed. “Perhaps I should explain myself a bit more.” The gunman waited patiently. Of course he wanted that. He always wanted Goemon to feel comfortable expressing himself. He so rarely did it. “I do not care for, nor want things like this to happen because...I simply do not think of them. Jigen, I am not like you. Or Lupin. Or Fujiko.” He stopped here, having named all the humans he could think of just now. “I am an Iga region ninja. My training is my life. My ninjutsu is something I will dedicate my life to mastering, knowing that that day might never come. It is not functional to dwell on relationships that do not aid me in this goal.” He paused again, sipping more nigori. “I am not educated in these things, nor am I open to an expansive exploration of how they might fit into my life. Indeed, what sort of life is this? Certainly not an appropriate way to live, if one’s goals include protecting someone whom they hold dear. Violence, extreme violence, is a very often occurrence. Look at how often we sustain very serious injury without the means to get proper medical treatment,” he pointed out. Jigen swallowed. “A romantic relationship does not serve my needs.”

“Uh-huh.”

“...but, I really do like you, Jigen.”

“...yeah?”

“...yes!” Goemon answered unambiguously in the positive. He turned to Jigen, a smile plastered on his face so wide and unstoppable it reached the corners of his eyes. “You are smart, reliable, strong. You have...a warrior’s heart. It suits me. And you. You understand what we do. You face our dangers head-on. It is...admirable.”

Another win. Jigen sighed in relief. He supposed asking Goemon to lavish him with compliments regarding his rugged good looks would be just a bit too much right now. He grinned and brushed away some of Goemon’s fringe - taking serious note of how the samurai’s eyes fluttered underneath his touch. _I’ve got you. Thank god. Because you got me so bad._ “Drink the rest of that nigori? Right now? Fast?”

Goemon laughed again. “Jigen! There are two other people in here! Do you not think that might be a bit inappropriate?”

“Can’t blame a guy for trying,” Jigen said, shrugging. “Besides, they went ahead without giving us the same consideration.”

“Jigen?”

“Hm?”

The samurai’s eyes were aimed at the floor. “Suppose...I did finish this bottle. And. Even then...even after what I just told you...I still d-don’t, um.”

 _I don’t know how to get closer_. Jigen remembered Goemon’s words from that night. Hell, remembered everything about that night. “Hey, Goemon.” The samurai made eye contact. “Do you remember what I told you? That other night?”

_I’m not going anywhere._

“What if...I am never any closer to you than I am right now?”

Jigen pursed his lips and snubbed out his cigar. He kept using that word: _closer_. Jigen had a sneaking suspicion he knew exactly what Goemon was talking about, but he found he didn’t quite care just now. “Then you’ll be where you are right now. And I’ll be here where I am with you.”

One side of Goemon’s lips turned upwards in a half-baked smile. _Thank you_.

Jigen spoke again after a while. “Think you’ll go home?”

Goemon hesitated for a beat. “...it might be nice. Yourself?”

Jigen didn’t have a home like Goemon did. “Nah.”

“Oh.”

“It’s doesn’t matter right now, Goemon. You know how this goes. We gotta split up until we get The Call again.” Jigen smiled and took the nigori bottle from Goemon, wrapping his lips tightly around the top, gulping down a few hearty mouthfuls. He was already looking forward to the future. “Then it’ll be a whole new... _thing_.” He shrugged, grinning wildly. He couldn’t help it. The gunman had made more than his fair share of terrible decisions, had managed to screw himself over time and time again until he had been broke and homeless. But (for) now, he was happy. Maybe not stable, maybe not rich (but hey, not bad off either), maybe not young as he used to be...but he was happy.

And he had this new thing with Goemon. Jigen wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and leaned towards Goemon, to speak into the samurai’s ear, “Some time alone will be good for us, I think.” He paused to swallow. Goemon's cheeks flushed, and he once again redirected his gaze towards the floor. Jigen gently took the samurai's chin in his hand, and brought his face up for a quick, but heartfelt kiss. "You know how to get ahold of me in the meantime. Besides,” he growled, “I’ll be interesting when you’re alone and feeling bored.” 

Goemon shivered. 

**Author's Note:**

> Will I ever work up the courage to do an actual sex scene?
> 
> Stay tuned.


End file.
